


turn me on (with your electric feel)

by rsadelle



Category: Once a Thief (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Impact Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 13:53:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11852955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rsadelle/pseuds/rsadelle
Summary: The Director takes Mac back to the Caligula.





	turn me on (with your electric feel)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from MGMT's "Electric Feel."

The Director dismisses her team. Before they reach the door, she says, "Mac."

He turns back, resigned, as Vic and Li Ann go on without him.

"You will accompany me to the Caligula this evening," she says. "Wear something appropriate. I'll pick you up at eight."

She leaves no room for argument.

Mac is waiting in front of his apartment building when she arrives to pick him up.

He tips his ever-present sunglasses down to eye the car, a pause that she allows.

He gets in. "Nice ride."

"Thank you." The Director looks over at him, looks him up and down. "I like quality things."

Mac smiles, pleased.

There's a parking space reserved for the Director at the club. She pulls smoothly into it.

"Angelica," she says when they walk in, "we'll be on the third floor. Make sure my room is ready."

The Director leads Mac to the third floor. One of the best tables, the open curve of a booth around a table, has been cleared for her. She slides into the booth and leaves room for Mac to have the best view of what's going on around them.

A waiter brings them drinks. The Director runs her hand over his waist in thanks.

"This isn't what I drink," Mac says after trying his drink.

"It is tonight." The Director looks around the room. There's a good mix of people and activities on display.

Mac takes another sip. "It's not even alcoholic."

"No." The Director turns to look at him. "I wouldn't want you to get overstimulated."

"I think I'm plenty stimulated."

The Director reaches under the table and puts her hand over the bulge in Mac's pants. "Yes, I suppose you are."

She removes her hand, garnering a gasp from Mac. She plucks his sunglasses off his face, folds them, and tucks them over the neck of his t-shirt. They pull the fabric down, leaving an uneven, appealing triangle of skin visible.

"Now, tell me, Mac, what catches your eye?"

Mac looks at her first, then back out at the room. "Gee, there's so much to choose from."

"Yes," the Director says, "there is."

She watches him as much as she watches the room.

His gaze lingers on a man on his knees in front of a woman, a man with his arms bound behind his back with complicated rope work, a woman being spanked over a man's lap.

"You know, I'm not sure why I'm here." Mac's eyes linger on the woman pressing the kneeling man's face to the inside of her thigh before he turns his gaze on the Director.

She raises her eyebrows at him. "Because I want you here, of course."

"Right," Mac mutters, "of course."

The Director finishes her drink - it's important to stay hydrated - then grabs Mac's arm and stands. "Come along, Mac."

Mac gulps the last of his drink and hastily drops the glass on the table as she pulls him away.

The lights are on in her room, everything bathed in a soft glow that lets her see exactly what she wants to see.

"Private room?" Mac asks, hovering in the doorway.

" _My_ private room," she corrects. "One of the perks of being a founding member." She gestures him into the room.

He steps forward, and she pulls the door shut behind him, turns the lock with a loud snick.

Mac eyes the door. "Let me guess: I'm in here because you want me to be."

"Very good, Mac." The Director sits on the couch. She leaves enough space between her legs for a kneeling body. She forgoes a cushion for his knees; he won't be on them for long. "Come here."

Mac comes to stand in front of her.

"On your knees."

He could protest and then she'll have to take more active measures to get what she wants, but he doesn't. He gets down on his knees between her feet, and looks up at her. His gaze catches on her thighs before he jerks it all the way up to her face.

"Now what?"

The Director shifts her legs wider, nudges Mac's knee with one of her high heels. "Now, Mac, you put your mouth to good use."

His mouth opens like he's going to protest.

She arches her eyebrows at him, and he keeps quiet.

The Director smiles as Mac gets his head under her very short skirt. There's nothing to impede his way once he's there.

He gets to work, and he makes good use of his mouth. Very good use. Then his hand slides up her thigh.

The Director slaps it away. "I didn't say you could use your hands."

Mac's head comes out of her skirt.

"I didn't say you could stop either. Put your hands behind your back."

Mac mutters, "Are you freaking kidding me?"

The Director chooses to ignore it because he puts his hands behind his back and his head under her skirt.

She squeezes her thighs around him when she comes.

Mac sits back and rubs his head when she lets him go. "Was that really necessary?"

The Director runs her hand through his hair, then grips it tightly at the back of his head. "You're a victim of your own success. Do I have Li Ann to thank for that?"

Mac twists into her grip. "First of all, ow. Second of all, please never do that."

"We'll see." The Director rises to her feet. She steps over Mac. "Get up."

He rolls to his feet and shakes out his arms.

The Director looks him over, her gaze lingering at his groin. "Take off your clothes."

"All right. Now we're talking." Mac strips efficiently and leaves his clothes, all of them, draped over the arm of the couch.

"Don't get too excited," the Director says with a pointed glance at where he is excited indeed. She directs him across the room. "I'm not finished with you yet."

Mac eyes the piece of furniture she's directed him to. "You want me to-"

"Bend over it." She puts a hand on the center of his back and pushes him over it.

"You know," Mac says, "this is not what I thought I would be doing tonight when I got up this morning."

"Aren't you lucky." The Director selects the implement she wants out of a cabinet. "Not everyone gets to have their day improve so dramatically."

"Yeah, sure," Mac says.

No doubt he has more to say, but the first hit with the slapper stops him. Not the pain, obviously; she chose the implement and the weight of her stroke for sound over harm. This time.

She doesn't give him time to think about it. The slapper makes a lovely sound as it comes into contact with his skin. The slight red marks fade quickly.

Mac takes it well, stays still, no sound but the heave of his breath.

The Director trails the slapper up his back. "I thought you might be louder."

"You know what?" Mac says. "I don't even know what to say to that."

"I'm sure you'll think of something later." The Director slaps across the top of his shoulders, one last quickly fading mark, then puts the slapper down. "Get up."

Mac pushes himself up from the bench. "You really like ordering me around."

The Director raises her eyebrows. "You seem to be enjoying it." The evidence of that is plain for her to see. "Sit on the couch."

Mac settles himself in with his legs spread wide. "Is it my turn now?"

"Hardly." The Director pushes his legs together and straddles him. She leans in close to speak directly into his ear. "You should know by now, Mac, that it is always my turn." She grabs his arms and stretches them out along the back of the couch. "Don't move your hands."

Mac wiggles his fingers. "Or what?"

"Or it will never be your turn."

The Director opens a condom and rolls it down onto Mac with as little touching as possible, then lowers herself down onto him.

Mac groans.

The Director smiles. "Mac." She lets her lips brush his ear as she says his name.

"Yeah?"

"If you bring this to an end before I want you to, I will be very disappointed."

That garners a second groan from Mac, which turns into more of a moan as the Director begins to move.

She knows what she likes, and just how to use a man's body to get what she wants. And, after all, Mac wasn't the only one to find their activities stimulating. Or the only one to find this activity stimulating. Mac's inability to look away from her chest only enhances the experience.

He only looks up after she comes, meeting her eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. "Is it my turn now?"

"I suppose you do deserve a reward." The Director shifts herself on him, enough space between them for her hands. She takes off the condom before she strokes him with a tight grip. "I do hope this doesn't take too long."

"Got a hot date?" Mac whines when she tightens her grip more than is likely to be comfortable. "Okay, okay. Don't worry. I don't think this will take long at all."

"No," the Director says, "I imagine it won't."

It doesn't. None of the predictable result gets on the Director, except for her hand.

"You've made a mess." She holds up her hand in front of Mac. "Clean it up."

He raises his eyebrows at her, then does as he's told and licks her hand clean.

His mouth looks delectable like this, full and wet. She would kiss him, but for the taste now. An activity for another day.

The Director stands up, pulling her dress into place with a single, sharp tug at the skirt. "Get dressed."

Mac pulls his arms in and gets to his feet. "You're not really one for afterglow, are you?"

"Not at the moment." The Director waits by the door with her arms crossed over her chest until he finishes dressing, sunglasses included, and joins her.

Angelica is waiting upstairs with their coats.

"Thank you, Angelica." The Director ties the belt of her coat. "My room will need attention."

"Of course. I hope you enjoyed your evening."

The Director smiles at Mac like she wants to devour him. Again. "Yes, I did."

She takes Mac home.

He doesn't get out of the car when she stops in front of his apartment building. "What? No goodnight kiss?"

"Goodnight, Mac."

Mac takes the hint and gets out of the car.

The Director waits until he's taken a few steps before she rolls down the passenger window and calls his name.

Mac comes back, sunglasses tipped down, and leans on the window frame.

"You did very well tonight," the Director tells him. "Now I know you won't embarrass me next time."

"Next time?"

The Director only smiles at him. "Goodnight, Mac."

She starts to roll up the window, forcing him to move. She can still hear him calling, "Next time?" as she drives away.

Next time indeed.


End file.
